


Daughter of the Pearl

by VictoriaHolmesWriting



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Barbossa!Reader, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mentions Intended Rape, Minor Character Death, Norrington Sass, Not Canon Compliant, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, pirate!reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:49:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaHolmesWriting/pseuds/VictoriaHolmesWriting
Summary: A simple task of gathering information leads to a chance encounter that changes two lives forever.





	1. The Governor's Ball

**Author's Note:**

> Somewhat inspired by the fic "Ballrooms and Battlefields" by @imaginepirates on Tumblr. Well, this chapter kinda is, anyways. But it is really good and I highly recommend it!
> 
> Also, this chapter is long, so buckle up!

The corset gripped her torso like an iron fist as (Y/N) Barbossa, the daughter of the much-feared pirate captain, walked up the stairs of Governor Swann’s mansion. She was accustomed to binding her breasts everyday, but not her waist. This was just ridiculous. What were they thinking? Did fancy-to-do women not breathe?

She pushed the questions out of her mind. The absurdities of the English Aristocracy did not matter at the moment. She needed to concentrate on getting into this ball.

There was only one guard standing before the large double doors, but he looked to be in a rather unpleasant mood. The redcoat scrutinized her with blood-shot eyes; eyes that told her the reason for his nasty demeanor -- a severe headache from last night’s indulgences.

“Where’s your escort, miss?” he asked as she reached him, cutting off the pleasantries she had prepared.

Using every ounce of self-restraint she had to continue smiling instead of rolling her eyes in the exact same manner as her father, she replied, “Surely, you will forgive the absence of my escort as my father is presently abroad.”

_Lie with a hint of the truth and a bushel of confidence._ Her father’s teachings echoed in her head. She had been quite young when he first told her this. Now, she was almost better at lying than her father -- a fact that lead to a promise between them never to lie to the other.

The abrasive redcoat was still eyeing her suspiciously and trying to work through what to do with his mead-muddled brain, when a gruff voice intervened. “An exception can be made under the circumstances, Private.” A blonde man about her height with a cocky grin kissed her hand. “Especially for a beautiful specimen such as this.”

This night was really going to test her patience and restraint.

“Thank you, lieutenant,” she said, glancing at his uniform and with _He’s your way in. Don’t stab him. He is your way in. Do. Not. Stab. Him. repeating in her head._

The musicians struck up a new song. It was beautiful with delicate emphasis on the cello. A harmonious medley that was far from the chaotic hymns of Tortuga. Several of the fancy-to-dos made their way to where the music must be coming from to dance.

The lieutenant followed her gaze and smirked. “May I steal a dance from you?” He still had hold of her hand.

She brightened her smile ever so subtly and took a slight step closer to him. “I would be delighted!” She most certainly was not, but she was better at hiding her ulterior motives than the man leading her to the ballroom, whose unsavory expectations were written so plainly they may as well have been written on a sign around his short neck.

“Arriving to the center of the room, the lieutenant abruptly pulled her flush to himself before starting to dance. She concentrated hard on keeping her composure, though she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

_Just this one dance, then I can mingle, get the information for Father and leave,_ she secretly fumed as he swung her around.

He pulled her close again, but, this time, the hand that pressed her against him was too low to be proper. And she could feel him growing hard against her hips.

Fury boiled over -- throwing her cover out the window. She shoved his chest wither her free hand, but his grip only tightened. 

“Let go of me,” she growled, a menace in her eyes that had sent pirates scuttling away.

“Now, now,” he threatened, “our dance is not quite done.”

“Oh, I would rather disagree.”

The lieutenant’s face blanched at the sound of the deep, polite voice laced with a careful amount of suave sarcasm. He dropped his hands and hastily backed away.

A tall, handsome Royal Navy officer put himself between them. He glared at the now cowering lieutenant with a rage he was struggling to contain.

“Cap-Captain,” stammered the slimy bastard.

Her eyes snapped up to the taller man. _Could this be the captain that has brought down so many pirates in recent years?_ She took in his appearance, wanting to resign it all to memory so she could pass it off to her father later. 

_Dark-brown hair; authoritative posture; stern, but handsome face; broad shoulders; pale, soft-looking skin; green eyes with a hint of grey like the sea during a storm…. _

She shook the spiraling thoughts away. _Focus, Barbossa! There’s still a job to be done._

“Yes, that would be my title.” The captain’s voice dripped with venom. “Now, go patrol the fort before I..._discover_ reason to demand your resignation.”

The lieutenant swallowed hard, taking a few steps back before turning on his heel and all but running out of the mansion. The captain’s glare followed him until he was out of sight.

When he turned to face her, she was surprised by the dramatic shift in his expression. The anger was still there, but it was overshadowed with concern and apology. Those mesmerizing eyes were so honest -- almost vulnerable -- as he spoke.

“I am so sorry for my subordinate’s deplorable behaviour.” His words were rushed and breathy. “I swear I will deal with him later. But…. Please, tell me how I can make amends to you.”

She was once again taken aback. His genuine kindness and chivalry was something she had never experienced in a life of piracy. She suddenly found herself deeply intrigued by the rather young captain and desperate to keep his company as long as possible.

“Dance with me,” she said, praying she didn’t sound as pathetic as she felt.

He blinked several times and furrowed his brow, looking like she had spoken to him in another language. “I’m sorry?”

“Grant me a dance with my rescuer and all will be forgiven,” she bargained, mustering up her briefly forgotten confidence and adding the coy smile to match.

The kind, young face relaxed a bit, though he blinked several more times and studied her face carefully as if he would find something to indicate he’d misunderstood.

“Of course,” he agreed, deciding he had heard her correctly. He tentatively held one hand out to her and waited for her to take it.

For the third time, she was completely stunned by the kindness displayed by the gentleman in front of her. She asked him to dance with her, but he made no more towards her. Instead, he waited for her to close the distance. The stark difference between him and the bastard he’d sent running -- and most of the men she’d known in her life aboard the Pearl -- was astonishing.

A new song began, slightly jarring her back to where she was and why she was there. She took his hand, marveling at how soft it was despite the calluses -- and how well hers fit into it.

Stepping towards him, she found breathing difficult in a way that had nothing to do with the corset.

“May I ask your name, miss?” he asked as they began to dance.

“You wish to know my name?” she questioned. Causing his brow to furrow again.

“Is that such an odd request?” A hint of the snark she’d heard in his voice earlier returned beneath the polite concern, though it seemed more playful this time.

She shrugged as she moved around him, consciously concentrating on not getting distracted by the odd sensation growing in her chest. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t be given how pleasantly opposite you are compared to my last dancing partner.”

Renewed disgust flashed like lightning in his stormy eyes. “He didn’t even ask for your name?” The question was forced through clenched teeth.

“Forgive my boldness, Captain, but I rather don’t think it was my name he was after.” She dropped her gaze for a moment, pushing the thoughts conjured by that reality out.

The captain swallowed, his gaze becoming a bit distant. “No, I don’t believe it was.” He dropped his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

Gently, she placed a hand on his cheek, not caring how improper it might appear, and tilted his face so she could look him in the eyes. “I am eternally grateful to you, Captain….”

“Norrington,” he finished. “But, please, call me James.” His face grew pink and warm beneath her palm. The blush blossomed so far, she wondered if his chest had gone pink as well.

_No! Do not think of that! You will soon be returned to the Pearl and he will be hunting your kind._

But that feeling in her chest blazed brighter as a small, beautiful smile tentatively appeared on his face, relaxing the clenched jaw. Everything about him seemed to relax with her touch.

“Thank you, James,” she breathed, heart fluttering. “My name is (Y/N).”

The beautiful smile grew. “It was my honour, (Y/N).”

The music stopped.

People moved past hem, some casting scrutinizing looks their way, as the musicians laid down their instruments and excused themselves for a brief respite.

(Y/N) dropped her hand (noting with silent glee the disappointment that replaced it); James took a step back that looked to have physically pained him. 

He opened his mouth to say something. (Y/N) perked up; a deep desire to hear whatever he had to say filled her very being.

“Captain Norrington!” A scrawny, curly-headed servant boy ran up to him. The top of his head hardly cleared James’ elbow. She would have found him adorable if she did not despise him for the intrusion.

“What?” James snapped at the boy.

The boy froze in alarm, eyes wide. “G-Governor Swann wishes to speak to you about Tortuga, sir.”

James’ eyes shot from the boy to (Y/N). They bore into her, clearly looking for some recognition or revelation born from the boy’s words in her features. Of course, she knew about Tortuga -- in fact, she had been there many times and she knew her father was planning to go there for supplies upon their departure from Port Royal.

_Could this be the raid Father caught wind of?_ She suddenly realized Captain Norrington might hold the information she’d donned the bloody corset for.

She needed to play her cards well.

(Y/N) allowed her brows to knit ever so slightly as she feigned ignorance. “Tortuga? Sounds rather odd. What is it?”

James said nothing for a moment as he considered her, but must have come to the conclusion that he could trust her. 

_Fool._

He sighed and addressed the boy first. “Very well, run along, I shall join him presently.”

James looked around before stepping closer again and speaking so that only she could hear. “Tortuga is a notorious pirate town not all that far from here. I will be leading a raid on the town in search of known pirates and other such heathens to bring them to justice.

(Y/N) admired the man in a new light upon hearing this whispered declaration. This was indeed the ruthless young officer flying through the ranks, taking down countless pirates as he went. The handsome, kind gentleman was the stone-hearted pirate hunter whose rumored raid had inspired Captain Barbossa to send his beloved daughter to this ball.

But the man studying her features for any sort of reaction was not so cold as the stone-hearted bastard she’d heard stories of in recent years. She had seen the blinding rage and sense of heroics to be sure, but this man’s heart was not stone. Of that, she was quite sure.

She smiled sadly, placing a hand on his upper arm. “I shall pray for your safe return, James,” she promised sincerely, gently caressing his arm.

His beautiful smile returned, brighter than before. “May I be so bold as to hope for another dance after I have spoken to the governor?”

“I would be delighted!” she answered sweetly, concealing the confusing pain that constricted her heart. Why did it suddenly hurt so much to lie to him -- someone she hardly knew?

No. That was the thing. She truly _did_ wish to dance with him again. But now that she had the information she came for, she needed to get back to the Pearl. It would be best to set sail while the ball was still in full swing. That was the plan. She knew that. She helped develop that plan. So, why was she now hesitating?

_Pull yourself together! You are a Barbossa and, if he knew that, he’d arrest you or even kill you right here and now! _

_Wouldn’t he?_

She forced her mind to shift back to the task at hand as James beamed at her before excusing himself to answer the governor’s summons.

Once he was out of sight, her smile dropped, no longer caring to keep up appearances. She wandered for a few moments before locating the door to the garden and slipping outside.

The garden was vast with high walls and hedges, but a stretch of wall directly to the left of the door had vines that would be easy to scale. Laughter drifted from somewhere to the west, but there was no one in sight.

Careful as to not make a sound, she tore the heeled shoes off her screaming feet and stashed them under the nearest bush. The stockings were resigned to the same fate.

“(Y/N)?” Her spine went rigid at the sound of James’ confused voice.

She turned to face the gentleman that had so captured her intrigue without any façades or barriers, unwilling to lie to him further when it was no longer necessary. Her favoured dagger was cold against her thigh, but she had no desire to reach for it.

James looked between her, the stashed articles, and the wall she’d hardly made two paces towards. “What are you doing?”

The hurt in his voice mirrored the expression on his handsome face. Guilt bubbled within her, adding itself to the myriad of other confusing feeling that began upon their meeting.

All false pretenses of propriety gone, she stepped right up to him and placed a hand on his cheek. He stiffened, but leaned into it, almost subconsciously, as he waited with furrowed brows for an answer that would never come.

She caressed his face with her thumb. “I hope we will meet again someday, Norrington.”

Before James could respond, she’d closed the distance between them, meeting his soft lips with hers.

He hesitated for a brief moment before surrendering to the kiss. It was gentle and sweet. Neither wanted it to end.

But just as quickly as it started, so the kiss came to an abrupt end.

Captain James Norrington stood there, stunned; only opening his eyes in time to see the first woman to get past his barriers dropping over the wall -- her face alight with adventure...and something else he couldn’t quite name.


	2. Capture

Ominous fog rolled over the black water in thick, opaque layers. It wisped up the sides of the HMS Dauntless like cold, ghostly flames.

Perhaps they were ghosts. Ghosts of pirates, sailors, and soldiers alike.

To be true, it was not so far-fetched a thought, given the port that was just visible from the ship's bow.

And that’s exactly where he stood, glowering at the faint lights in the distance. James Norrington: recently promoted to Commodore -- a beautifully-crafted, new sword and new uniform as evidence -- and determined to prove why he deserved the lofty title at such a young age.

Tortuga would be his chance.

~ ~ ~

(Y/N) lounged in her chair as comfortably as the wooden frame would allow, boots on the table farthest away from the main throng and a rum in hand that made the noise momentarily tolerable. Her head leaned against the wall behind her, eyes closed.

This was the first time they’d made port in Tortuga in several months, fearing an impending raid by the Royal Navy. Captain Barbossa had filled that time terrorizing new ports and colonies, and chasing legends of Cortez’s Aztec gold. (Some of those he tracked down for information on the gold told wild fairy tales of a curse.) The knowledge of Norrington’s planned raid had been almost a challenge to him.

For (y/n), on the other hand, these expeditions felt rather tedious. She didn’t argue with her father’s desperate need for the whole world to fear him; nor did she believe in the gold anymore than the curse that supposedly came with it. 

Besides all that, the good Captain had refused to allow her out of her cabin while they were in these unknown ports. Leaving the sanctity of the Pearl to join the screaming mob the crew turned into on land held no interest to her in the least, but those four walls quickly started to feel like a prison. His paranoia about her safety had increased tenfold in the year since Port Royal. Whether he was more worried about pirates or the Navy getting to her, she could not tell.

She looked over to Ragetti, her ever loyal friend -- and her current Captain-appointed guard -- who was currently debating God-knows-what with Pintel. He was the only one she’d told about everything that happened at the Governor’s ball, not just what she learned from Norrington. She told him _everything._

About the offensive lieutenant and Norrington coming to the rescue. About the dance -- wishing she could have danced with him again. Getting caught as she made her retreat. The kiss.

Everything.

She had to -- she couldn’t stop thinking about it...about him. For the sake of her own sanity, she had to tell someone and Raghetti was the only one she truly trusted. 

All that time locked away in her cabin had given her plenty of time to think it all over. In truth, it was the only thing she _could_ think about.

Ridiculous! She’d spent her entire life surrounded by men. None of them meant anything -- at least, not that would warrant obsession. How could one man have captured her intrigue so thoroughly?

Bang!

A loud blast from somewhere near the port ripped her from her thoughts.

Cannon fire.

(Y/N) jumped to her feet, ready for whatever attack was surely upon them. But as she reached for her sword, someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her head back by her hair. A strong arm held hers to her side. 

She looked at the man as she struggled and gasped. This was no rogue pirate onslaught -- _this was a Navy raid._

And she was caught in an ambush!

“(Y/N)!” Ragetti yelled, trying to get to her as Pintel dropped with a bullet in his chest.

Another soldier rushed him. They sparred momentarily, but the soldier got the upperhand. He disarmed Ragetti and drew back to run him through.

“No, don’t!” (y/n) screamed, her voice a foreign tone of desperation and despair.

The soldier paused, but kept his eyes and sword on Ragetti. He appeared to be considering something.

“Please! Don’t kill him,” she begged, no longer fighting her captor. She had no idea what her fate would be at their hands, but she didn’t care. All that mattered in that moment was Ragetti’s life. “I am Captain Barbossa’s daughter. Let him live and I will go quietly.”

“(Y/N), don’t!” Ragetti protested. “I’m not worth it.”

“Shut it, Rag! They have me anyways. The only difference there can be is whether or not they want information from me, the daughter of the most notorious pirate in the Carribean. “ She had no intention of ever giving up anything true, but these were the cards she had and she, at least, had to try to play them. Now she addressed the soldiers, “Think of all the pirate’s I’ve met, the treasures I’ve seen -- the hideouts I’ve been to.”

Chaos reigned around them while the soldier thought. Finally, he ordered, “Take her weapons.”

The soldier holding her cautiously let go. When she did not move, he took her sword and pistol, the latter of which he pointed at her.

“Go to your wench,” commanded the officer on Ragetti.

(Y/N) reached for him as Ragetti obeyed. She positioned herself slightly between him and the soldiers.

Apparently taking offense to this, the soldier that had been holding her backhanded her. “Whore,” he renamed her.

The other shoved him. “Fool, the commodore will want her unharmed,” he chastised as (y/n) held her bruised and bleeding cheek.

~ ~ ~

The ghostly fog hung low in the air as Norrington paced the deck of the legendary Black Pearl, hands behind his perfectly-straight back, head held high, and a mixture of triumph and distrust on his face.

This was all too easy. Captain Hector Barbossa was as legendary as his ship; he should not have been taken off-guard so easily. And why does such a notoriously merciless and hardened pirate look almost panicked?

He didn’t even believe in the Black Pearl until a few days ago; capturing it should have been a life-long journey, not a one night affair. A battle was raging, to be sure -- but it should have been a war.

“Commodore!”

Norrington snapped around at the call. His face dropped.

Several of his men boarded the ship with captured pirates. Right in front, restrained by the hair and a large mark on her face was the mysterious woman from the governor’s ball.

His heart started pounding for reasons he could not explain and his mind started spiraling. _Who is she? Why is she here? Who hurt her?! Is she a pirate? She certainly looks like one, but how could she have been at the ball?_

_Who is she?_

“Unhand her!” yelled a furious voice beside him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Brows furrowed, he looked between Captain Barbossa and the woman, who seemed just as surprised to see him.

“Commodore,” said the soldier holding her so roughly, “I’ve caught the Captain’s--”

Norrington held up a hand to cut him off. He didn’t need to hear the end; he already knew.

Everything suddenly fell into place. The resemblance was so plain to see. 

He was only able to capture the Black Pearl because Captain’s Barbossa’s _daughter_ was in port -- and he wouldn’t abandon her.

“What have you done to her?” continued Captain Barbossa. “You’ll regret the day you were born! You can’t take all of us and we have more loyalties here!”

“You’re right,” replied the Commodore, realizing what he had to do. “We can’t take all of you without retribution. However,” he looked directly in the woman’s eyes, hoping his face would not give away the odd feelings he had, “we can take some of you.”

“You will not take her!” shouted the Captain.

“But, Sir! She’s a pirate!”

“And a woman!” Norrington spoke over them in an increasingly dangerous tone. His eyes could not look away from the mark on her delicate features. “Which makes her a perfect candidate for Governor Swan’s reform ideas. We will take others to be sent to the gallows...but Ms. Barbossa will not be harmed. She will become a citizen of Port Royal, her name will be changed, and she will live out the rest of her days in peace.”

Captain Barbossa, her captor, and a wiry man beside her in the captured group began to protest.

“Do I get a say?” the woman demanded, finally finding her voice.

The ship fell silent.

“Preferably out of the hands of your lackey,” she added. Her voice was a mix of emotions that Norrington could not decipher.

A glare from the officer was enough to make the soldier back off. She wrenched away from him and sauntered right up to Norrington.

“I will go with you…” she started.

“(Y/N), no!” her father protested.

Shaking her head, clearly fighting back tears, but set in her resolve, she continued, “I will go with you on two conditions.”

Norrington said nothing, but nodded for her to continue.

“First, my father and Ragetti go free on the Pearl.” She paused, briefly, to read Norrington’s features before finishing. “And I stay with you.”

Everyone, including Norrington, were taken aback.

“I only trust you,” she said in a hushed tone only he could hear.

Several moments passed as he weighed his options. But the fluttering in his chest told him he had only one course of action.

“You have a deal.”


	3. Voyage

The commotion on The Black Pearl was deafening, but (y/n) heard none of it. Her word was crumbling around her and she was powerless against the new one beyond it. Unabashed tears started to flow freely down her face as she caught James’ eye.

“May I, please, say good-bye to my father?” she pleaded, not caring how weak she sounded in this moment.

Sympathetic pain reflected hers as he considered her request. Finally, he nodded and walked with her to where Captain Barbossa stood frozen in shock and anguish.

The tears flowed harder when Barbossa wrapped her in his strong, protective arms. Neither of them spoke a word as they held each other, both knowing it would probably be for the last time.

Eventually, James had to interrupt.

“I’m sorry, but we must be going,” the Commodore said. His voice was projected in an authoritative tone, though it seemed aimed more at the Captain than her. 

Before she could move, Barbossa whispered in her ear, “I will find you.”

(Y/N) shook her head, pulling away from him. “No, you will not,” she ordered. “You will leave me to my new life...and leave Port Royal alone.”

The last part of the command shocked both men. Barbossa sighed in a way (y/n) hoped meant he would obey.

She turned to James Norrington, the man who held her fate in his hands.

“On your word, Commodore,” she said.

James looked deeply in her eyes. “On my life, I swear it.”

~ ~ ~

James’ protective grip did not leave (y/n)’s arm as they left the Pearl and boarded the Dauntless. He did not let go of her until they reached his cabin.

“You will stay here for the night,” he said, shutting the door behind them. The unsavory looks some of his men had given her -- and him -- had not passed his notice. “It’ll be safest for you. You may have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor,” he added, seeing the apprehension building in her eyes as she examined the small bed in the corner.

His cabin was certainly the largest on the ship -- as he was the highest ranking officer on-board -- but it was still rather cramped and intimate for two people. Opposite the bed was a little writing desk, adorned with a quill, ink, sealing wax, and several papers. THe desk was accompanied by a short stack of books beside it. A table with a bible and candles stood next to the bed.

They all fit snugly in the cabin, but only just. The space in between was barely enough for James to sleep.

It did not bother him a bit.

(Y/N) nodded, whispering a quiet and slightly strangled, “Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

Some time in the darkest hours of the morning, (y/n) was awoken by a rustling. She jolted upright, searching for the source of the noise.

“Don’t be frightened, it’s just me,” James said from somewhere in front of her. His voice was hushed and calm.

“What are you doing?” she whispered back.

“Well, I was trying to be quiet as I prepared for my round,” he explained, lighting a candle, “but I have clearly failed.”

She could hardly believe her ears when a slight chuckle escaped those lips. It was captivating, yet strange coming from a man she saw as the serious and, sometimes, severe person he presented himself to be.

A fear struck her at the thought of being left alone.

“May I come with you on your rounds?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

However, her fears must have been clear on her face for the shock in his expression lasted only a moment.

He nodded and held a hand out to her. “Stay close to me,” he ordered, “do as I say, and don’t talk to anyone else.”

(Y/N) flexed her jaw. Taking orders had never been her forte. 

“Fine,” she hissed, ignoring his hand as she stood from the bed. “But keep your orders to a minimum, savvy?”

James’ brow knit. He did not give any confirmation, but she knew that he agreed under all that pride.

He was starting to realize what he was in for with her.

James led her to the deck. The fog had passed, revealing a sky full of bright stars.

“Beautiful night,” (y/n) commented, her voice laced in solemn as she stared up at the stars. Stars that usually made her feel so free, but now acted as a reminder that she was no longer.

He followed her gaze, pretending to have not heard her tone. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

She looked at him in confusion. “You say that as if you haven’t noticed the sky in a while.”

James shook his head. “I haven’t seen a night like this in quite some time, no.”

This only confused her more as she followed him on his rounds. But she said nothing for the fluttering in her heart had started again and she worried her voice would give the odd sensation away.


End file.
